Duking It Out
by orangesunset12
Summary: The Batfamily's insane, and Duke Thomas knows this full well. But, maybe, they're not too bad after all.
1. Chapter 1

"Pass the salt, Damian."

"No."

"Damian, please pass the salt."

"No."

"You little-"

"Boys," Bruce intervened, sighing heavily.

Tim sat back, eyes bright and calculating. Duke had always found Tim to be slightly scary, with the way he seemed to take in everything and process it in lightning speed. It always made him feel like he was being judged.

Which, he was pretty sure, he was. The family didn't seem to take kindly to strangers.

"Damian, would you pass Tim the salt?"

Damian glared at his father, but reluctantly shoved the salt in Tim's direction. If Tim scared him, then Damian terrified him- Duke swore that everytime he saw the kid he had been sharpening his knives, or staring at Duke with an inscrutable face that he saw in his nightmares.

So, overall, his first week in Wayne Manor hadn't exactly been pleasant.

Opposite him, Dick was inhaling his dinner like a speedster, snatching bits off Damian's plate and ignoring his violent protests. Duke shuddered at the courage Dick possessed to steal from the demon, vaguely recalling the knives Damian had thrown at Tim for doing the same thing. Of course, it was Dick- although Duke was new, even he could see that Dick and Damian had some indescribable bond between them. It also helped that out of all the people sitting at the table, Dick was almost certainly the least murdery.

"Jesus Christ, Dick, it's not like the food is going anywhere."

"Shut up, Jason! I'm enjoying Alfie's food while I can!"

Speaking of murder...

Duke looked up slowly and glanced at Jason Todd. The man was sitting with his feet up on the table (god forbid Alfred finds out), throwing bits of food in the air and catching it with his mouth. He seemed casual here, almost at home, but his hands kept flicking to his hips where his guns were holstered.

Duke gulped and mentally cursed himself for not wearing a bulletproof vest.

As if hearing his thoughts, Jason Todd's eyes suddenly snapped towards him, and Duke's heart nearly jumped out of his mouth. He quickly looked down and focused intently on cutting his steak.

"Hey, new kid."

Pretend you didn't hear him, Duke thought. Maybe he'll leave you alone.

"New kid! Hey, Duke!"

Swallowing hard, Duke looked up and stared straight ahead. "Uh, yeah, hey."

While he had at least gotten accustomed to the presence of the others, today was the first time he had seen Jason, and he hoped that his discomfort hadn't been too obvious.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jason grin. "How's the first week here, huh? Getting along with the others?"

"Well... I mean, I guess-"

"Demon Brat try to kill you yet?"

"Jason!" Dick sounded horrified. "I'll have you know Damian's been on his best behaviour since Duke came, no threats or anything!"

Best behaviour? Duke's mind flashed back once again to Damian throwing knives at Tim, screaming at the top of his lungs about the numerous ways to skin a human being.

Oh god, what had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Duke flipped another page, savouring the rare piece of quiet he had managed to snatch up.

Alfred's kitchen was perhaps the warmest place in the entire manor, with the orangey-yellow light streaming in from the windows and the colourful plates and pots that decorated the countertops. It felt a little like home, and it smelled like it too, with the scent of freshly baked cookies wafting in the air. He didn't feel like a stranger here, which was nice for a change.

Plus, something about Alfred just made him feel all fuzzy inside. He still hadn't quite figured it out yet.

"Master Duke, you wouldn't mind trying my new batch of cookies, would you?"

Duke looked up from his book. "Uh, no, I wouldn't mind."

He picked up the largest one and bit off a piece, letting the chocolate melt in his mouth. He quickly shoved the rest of it down.

"You like it, I presume?"

Duke nodded vigorously, mouth still full of chocolatey goodness. Alfred smiled, eyes wrinkling up in the corner, and Duke felt that warmness in his chest again.

"How has your first week in the Manor been? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Mm- well-" he swallowed the cookie, then licked his fingers. "The bed's really comfortable. And the food is great, um, you're a great chef- and Bruce has been nice. He's been training me, and I think I've been making progress. And it's really cool that I'm allowed to have a T.V in my room."

"And the boys?"

"The- what?"

"Your brothers," Alfred elaborated. "How have you been getting along with them?"

"Well, I wouldn't call them my brothers..." Duke winced at Alfred's expression. "I mean, it's been... fine. I haven't spoken that much to them."

"You should try."

"Yeah, but, they're so..." Insane. Dangerous. Scary. "...Out there."

Alfred patted Duke on the shoulder. "They're not so bad once you get to know them, Master Duke. Now, wouldn't you say it's high time for tea?"

"Uh, I don't really like tea."

"What a shame. Well, Master Timothy adores it. Can you call him for me?"

Duke blinked. "What- you mean, go to his room and call him down?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful."

Duke gulped, looking up the stairs.

"...Sure. I'll be right back."

* * *

"Tim?"

He knocked on the door, a little louder. "Tim?"

Duke hovered over the doorknob, unsure of what to do. If Tim wasn't responding, then it could mean any number of things- maybe he was in the bathroom, or maybe he was listening to music and couldn't hear it, or maybe he simply didn't want to open his door. He couldn't just barge in, could he?

Then again, this was the Batfamily. Any number of bad things could've happened, too.

"Tim, I'm coming in," Duke called, and prayed to God Tim wasn't going to kill him for this.

He turned the knob slowly and opened the door, peeking around it carefully.

Tim was asleep at his desk.

He quickly closed the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief as he slumped against the wood. He was glad Tim wasn't hurt, and even more glad that Tim hadn't severed his head off. And now that he was here...

Looking around, he smiled a bit at how... typical it looked. It was like a normal teenage guy's bedroom; clothes scattered across the floor, books pulled off random shelves, crumbs from snacking illegally inside your room, Taylor Swift playing from the laptop-

Okay, maybe that last one wasn't so normal. He must've let out a little laugh, because all of a sudden Tim snapped awake, whipping his head towards Duke.

Duke gulped. "...Hi."

Tim's eyes were still bleary with sleep, and he shook his head a few times to get his bearings. Then, with a heavy blush, he turned around and shut his laptop. The music petered out.

"You're in my room."

"Haha, look at that, I am." Think of something, Duke, he looks like he's about to kill you! "Just... checking up on you. In case, you know, something bad happened."

Tim's stare was so flat it was two dimensional. "Something bad happened?"

"Yeah..." Duke scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I was supposed to call you down for dinner, but you didn't open the door when I knocked, so I thought... maybe... something bad happened. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to intrude."

Tim sighed. "It's alright. You didn't touch any of my stuff, did you?"

"No! I- I wouldn't do that."

"Really?" Tim raised an eyebrow. "You're better than every other person in this household, then. Including Alfred. He keeps taking away my coffee."

Duke glanced at the stack of coffee cups in the corner. "Well... maybe he's doing that for your own good."

"Not you too. For God's sake, it's not an addiction, I need it!"

"I don't think anyone needs that much coffee, Tim. Not even for what we do."

"Okay, statement redacted, you're just like the others. It's not like Jason's smoking or Dick's cereal addiction are major problems, right?!"

Duke laughed, shaking his head. This was probably the first time he'd held an actual conversation with Tim. He was pretty cool, truth be told. Still scary, but pretty cool, too.

"Well, I wonder if they like Taylor Swift, too."

Tim groaned. "God, please don't tell the others. They'd have a fit, and then never let me live it down for the rest of my life."

"I won't. I'm... kind of a fan myself."

"You are?"

"Yeah, I mean, a little." Duke blushed. "I had her CD collection, but I didn't bring it over here, cause I thought that'd be weird."

Tim's eyes were focussed on him, as if trying to calculate some complex algebraic equation. Then, abruptly, he turned around and started typing on his laptop.

Duke shifted uncomfortably, unsure of whether to get out of the room or not. It was pretty clear Tim didn't want to continue their conversation.

"So... yeah, we should probably go down for dinner..."

"You free June 8th?"

"What?" Duke blinked. "I- I dunno, I'll have to check. What-"

"I booked two tickets for the concert, so you better clear any plans then."

"Concert?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"You're going to a Taylor Swift concert? With me?"

"Well, duh." Tim stared at him blankly. "You're the only one who would wanna go. Besides Dick, but if I have to hear him sing for two hours, that's a solid pass."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, the others won't find out. To them, we'll be going to the baseball game. I have receipts and everything."

"Wow. Uh... thanks."

Tim shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. "I know we're not the most welcoming family, Duke. But we're not so bad."

Duke returned his smile. "No. You're not."

* * *

"Pass the salt, Damian."

"No."

"Damian, please pass the salt."

"No."

Tim sighed and threw up his arms. "Everyday, Bruce. Is the Demon Brat incapable of manners?"

"I am capable of everything you are capable of, Drake! And much more!"

"Boys," Bruce groaned, and it looked like he was developing a migraine.

"Father, I will not tolerate his insults anymore! Treating me as if I am lower than him! I am the blood son-"

"Here we go again," Tim sing-songed, scooping up a spoonful of pasta.

Dick shot him a look. "Tim, don't rile him up."

But it was too late. Damian's face had turned beet red, as if he were about to explode. Duke decided then to intervene.

"Hey, Damian?" Damian shot a glare at him. "It's not a big deal. Just shake it off."

Tim burst out laughing, spitting pasta all over the table. Dick and Bruce exchanged a confused glance as Damian fumed, his threats falling on deaf ears as Tim clutched his stomach, still laughing. Duke smiled to himself as he continued eating.

So maybe they weren't exactly normal.

But, Duke decided, he could live with that.

* * *

 **Yeah, so I decided that Duke needs a little more love! I don't know whether I characterised him correctly, because truth be told I don't know a lot about him, but I thought it would be interesting to see what it takes to become a Batfamily member. Anyways, as usual, like, favourite, and review if you enjoyed! There might be more chapters about Duke bonding with others, but for now this is a one-shot.**

 **Thanks for reading, you guys always make my day!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Dick."

Dick zipped up his jacket, deliberately avoiding eye contact as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"Dick, please, you can't be serious."

"Oh, he's serious all right," Tim snorted. He was also getting dressed, pulling on his shoes at the doorway. "Sorry Duke, but there's no getting out of this one."

"But- alone. For a whole day!"

Dick shrugged and smiled at Duke sheepishly. "I'm sorry about this, I really am. It just everything kinda collided together, and you're the only one available right now."

"But you can't leave me alone with him! He- he's-"

"An adorable little child who needs love and affection to flourish," Dick interjected. "He's really not so bad once you get to know him."

"He's worse," Tim deadpanned.

" _Tim_."

"What? It's not like he tries to kill me every few hours or anything!"

Dick flicked Tim in the arm. "He's just got a tough outer shell. Once you break through, he's as soft as a bunny."

Duke's stomach did a helpless flop. It had been three weeks since he'd come to the manor, and he was finally getting used to things around here. He knew when to dodge knives coming out of the doorway, knew how to locate the source of Dick's singing and run in the opposite direction as fast as he could, knew how to detect if Jason had arrived- usually, all you needed to do was look at Bruce's face. More constipated than usual? Jason was here.

So he wasn't a total stranger anymore. But he definitely wasn't yet comfortable with spending a whole day alone with Damian.

"Tim," Duke pleaded, "can't you stay?"

Tim looked at him sympathetically. "Sorry, but I think my presence will only make things worse. Besides, Bruce would skin me alive if I miss this meeting."

"Babs would, too. Only it's a date, not a meeting."

"We know, Dick, you've been talking about it for ages."

"Well excuse me for being excited!" Dick took a look at his watch. "We'd better get going now. Call us if you need anything!"

"Wait, you're going now? Can't you wait a bit longer?"

"Nope," Tim grimaced, "definitely going to be late if we stay. You'll be fine, Duke. Just don't drink anything he's prepared for you, and you'll be fine."

"What? Tim, wait, don't just say that and-"

The door shut in his face.

Duke sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He decided that, maybe, it was a good time to write his will.

* * *

Duke checked his watch.

2 hours. Okay, so far so good.

He was in the living room, munching on some biscuits he'd found in the kitchen. Of all the days Alfred had to be on vacation, he thought bitterly, stuffing another batch in his mouth. But he supposed it wasn't so bad so far.

Well, it only wasn't bad because he hadn't even seen Damian all day. He'd just stayed in the living room, watching TV or reading or just lounging about. Damian hadn't come down to bother him, so he supposed everything was okay. And if it stayed like this for the rest of the day, he might even survive to strangle Tim and Dick for leaving him here.

Of course, just as that thought passed through his head, he heard a small shuffling sound coming down the stairs.

"Thomas."

Duke mentally cursed whatever god was up there in the sky, and turned around to find Damian standing at the bottom of the staircase, stroking his cat like some cliche supervillain.

"You- you don't have to call me that, you know. Just Duke is fine."

"Thomas," Damian repeated, blatantly ignoring Duke's words, "I need a sparring partner."

"Oh, you do?"

"Yes."

"Well... that's very interesting."

Damian just gave him a look, until Duke's brain finally kicked into action. "Oh- you want me to-"

"Yes. I will meet you downstairs in 5 minutes." He looked distastefully at Duke's sweats. "You should change."

Duke stared as Damian left, heading for the clock that lead to the Batcave. He sat there uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, before the horror of what he had (not) agreed to finally sank into his mind.

He was going to spar. With Damian.

Oh, he was definitely dead. He had been training with Bruce, but only sporadically, and he was nowhere near the level of any of the Robins- especially not deadly, trained assassin Damian.

He sighed as he stood up. On the one hand, he could accept his fate and go downstairs to spar with Damian, and probably die. On the other, he could hide out in the manor until someone comes back and lose any dignity he had in the eyes of his new family.

He shook his head. He was a Bat now, and Bats weren't supposed to be scared of anything. So Duke sucked up all the courage he had in him and marched towards the clock.

He hoped Bruce would buy him a nice casket.

* * *

"Thomas. Took you long enough."

"Yeah, well... I had to change."

"Are you sure that outfit will not limit your dexterity?"

Duke shook his head, then almost fell backwards from the weight of all his armour. He windmilled his arms until he stood back up straight again. "Nope, I'm sure this is fine."

Damian made a face that Duke couldn't read, then got into his fighting stance. Duke mirrored him.

"Just to let you know," Duke said nervously, "Bruce hasn't taught me everything yet. So I'd appreciate if you'd take it-"

Damian lunged, and Duke heard himself shriek as he narrowly sidestepped the blow. The kid turned around in lighting speed, sweeping out his foot to trip Duke up. Duke jumped just in time, before countering with his own clumsy punch. It missed, and Damian grabbed Duke's arm and flipped him onto the mat.

Duke felt the wind rush out of his lungs, and he pushed himself back up to a sitting position, panting heavily. He removed the plating on his chest and took several long, deep breaths.

"Okay," he panted, "maybe there was a little too much armour."

Damian was watching him from his side of the mat. When he saw Duke looking up at him, he crossed his arms.

"I am superior," he stated.

Duke blinked. "Uh... okay."

"I have bested you in combat," Damian continued. "You have lost."

"Uh, yeah. I did. In all fairness, though, Bruce hasn't-"

"You will never be Robin."

Duke paused, hearing the slight waver of Damian's voice. There was that same unreadable expression on Damian's face, eyes never leaving Duke's sitting form. Duke tilted his head.

"What- you thought I was going to become Robin?"

Damian's hands clenched into fists. "If you weren't, then why are you here?"

"Well, of course I want to fight crime, but- why would I become Robin? Why would I take that away from you?"

"I don't know," he bit out, "but that is how it always has been. I took this title from Drake, who took it from Todd, who took it from Grayson. And now-"

He looked away from Duke, hands still clenched tight. "And now you're here. But you're incompetent, highly so, and not worthy of the title."

Duke shook his head. "Damian, I'm not going to become Robin."

"Really?" Damian looked at him distrustfully.

"I'm not. We- me and Bruce talked about it, actually. I mean, Batman's my hero and all, but it would just feel weird being his partner, you know? I think- I think I want my own thing. Besides, I'm not going to take anything you won't give to me. And you're Robin, aren't you?"

"Yes. I am the best Robin." He paused. "Besides Grayson, of course."

Duke smiled. "So, now that we cleared that up, you don't want to murder me anymore, right?"

"If I wanted to murder you Thomas, I would have done so already."

"That's... reassuring."

Damian shrugged. "No. I am... not a murderer anymore. No matter what Drake says."

"Nice to know," Duke said, relieved. "So... if you don't wanna kill me anymore, wanna help me survive?"

"What?"

"Show me some moves! I mean, you've trained with the League of Assassins since birth, you must be even better than Bruce at fighting!"

Damian couldn't hide his pleasure at the praise. "Well... I suppose I am the best mentor in this household. Perhaps you have some sense after all, Thomas."

Damian offered him a hand, and pulled Duke up to a standing position.

"Now," Damian declared, "we begin."

* * *

They came up sweating from the Batcave, stomachs ready for a full dinner. They headed into the dining room, where Dick, Bruce, and Tim already sat at the table. Bruce raised his eyebrows when he saw them.

"A nice workout, I presume?"

Duke nodded, stumbling a little from exhaustion. "I'm thinking I might go to bed straight after dinner. And maybe never wake up again."

Damian scoffed. "You need to build up endurance, Thomas. We can work on it on our next session."

Duke sat down at the table and promptly fell asleep, face down in the tablecloth. Damian shook his head and turned to Bruce.

"Father, I usually deride your unusual choices for children. Drake, for example."

"Watch it," Tim mumbled from his side of the table. He had had his coffee revoked, and was now looking like a zombie.

"But in this case," Damian continued, undeterred, "I suppose... you did not choose incorrectly."

Bruce and Dick smiled, both knowing that was a seal of approval from Damian.

And Duke smiled, too, dreaming about cotton candy and flowers and a family he thought he'd never have.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Wow, two updates in pretty quick succession (at least pretty quick for me haha). Usually my fics are all super angsty, so it's nice to have some light fluff. I'm kind of annoyed that I can't list Duke as a main character, but I don't really know what to do about that. His name is in the description (and the title, sort of) so it should be obvious enough.**

 **Thanks for reading this! Please like, follow, or review if you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

It was a month into his stay at the manor when Duke first met Cassandra Cain.

He was eating his breakfast- his favourite, scrambled eggs with buttery toast- and was quietly listening to the argument going on between Tim and Damian. There was always an argument going on between Tim and Damian, to the point where Duke thought they weren't even actually mad, it was just a habit.

"Drake, I swear, if you touch my plate again I will slit your throat."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm so scared."

"I'm serious!"

"If I had a nickel for everytime you said you were serious, I'd be richer than Bruce."

"Stop touching my plate!"

"I'll stop touching it once you stop taking up my space."

"Well, I am the blood son of Batman, I deserve more space than you."

"If I had a nickel for everytime you said you're the 'blood son', I'd be-"

Duke finished the last of the toast and stood up to bring the plate to the sink. He found it weird when the others left their plates on the table- it was something his father had drilled into him, to always clean up after himself.

He bit his lip and forced himself not to think about his parents. To not think about the way they used to be, loving and beautiful, before the Joker and the laughter and the-

"Duke?" Tim's concerned voice sliced a scar through his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Duke blinked and found himself holding his plate so tightly it was almost shattering. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about stuff."

Tim frowned and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but before he could the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" came Dick's voice from the corridor, as he skid across the hall in his Superman socks towards the door.

He opened it and practically squealed with delight at the girl standing on the porch.

"Cass! It's so good to see you!"

Cassandra smiled. "Nice to see you, Dick."

"How's Hong Kong? It's been so long since you've been here, I've got so much to tell you..."

Tim and Damian got up from the table and went to greet their sister. Duke placed the plate in the sink, watching warily from his spot in the kitchen. He had heard about Cassandra Cain, of course, and had seen her in the pictures, but he had no idea what she was actually like.

Cassandra looked across the room and locked eyes with Duke, and Duke felt himself swallow.

"Brother?" She directed the question to Dick, pointing a finger at Duke.

Dick grinned. "Oh yeah, you haven't met Duke yet! He's our newest baby brother, except he's not a baby because that title still belongs to Dami."

"I am not a baby, Grayson!"

"Aw, you're so adorable when you whine."

Cassandra Cain made her way across the room towards Duke. He stood there, shuffling slightly. It felt weird when you had to meet your family; it was never something he considered growing up. Most people knew their families their whole lives, after all.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello."

"Cassandra." She held out her hand.

He shook it gently. "I'm Duke. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," she repeated. He remembered that Bruce said she was never taught to speak or to read or write, and was somewhat amazed at how she learned it so late in life.

"So, uh..." Oh damn. What was he supposed to say now? "Nice...hair." He wished he could smack himself in the face.

Cassandra laughed, though, so at least it wasn't a total failure at conversation. "You nice hair too," she complimented warmly.

And then she was swept away by the others, talking and laughing under the high-vaulted ceiling. Duke smiled.

He'd always wanted a sister.

* * *

There was music playing through the hallways.

Duke furrowed his eyebrows and shut the TV off, poking his head out of his room. The music swelled and ebbed like the tide, high scratchy violins playing a jaunty tune, while low cellos bellowed a bass line. He slipped out and followed the sound, feet padding softly on the floor.

The melody lead him to a small room in the just three doors to the right. The door was slightly ajar, a line of light spilling across the wooden floorboards. He peeked through the crack.

The music came from a radio, sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Beside it was Cassandra, dancing, twirling across the carpeted floor. She spun and leaped, seeming to hover in the air for a moment, before landing back down without a sound. Her hands arched above her, graceful and elegant. It was the purest form of ballet- smooth, effortless, and yet the strength and pain was rippling just under the surface.

Suddenly, her head snapped towards the door, and her eyes locked on his.

Duke flinched and fell onto his butt just as she opened the door, her head cocked to one side. He blushed fiercely.

"I- I'm so sorry," he stuttered. "I didn't mean to look- I just heard the music, and..."

She shook her head and held out her hand. He took it warily, and she pulled him up in an effortless motion.

"...Thanks."

"No problem."

She held out her hand again, and he stared at it uncomprehendingly.

"Dance?"

He blanched. "What- you mean me? Dance with you?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

Duke blushed an even deeper shade of red. "I can't really dance, sorry. I mean I took some lessons once but I think they kicked me out cause I was worse than everyone else? I mean, I don't really know, but-"

Cass took his hand and dragged him into the room, where the music had changed to a jazzy, upbeat tune. She immediately started swaying to the rhythm, swinging Duke's arm in encouragement.

"No, really, I can't dance- I'll just end up stepping on your foot. I'll do it all wrong-"

"No wrong," Cass said determinedly. "Just dance."

And she leaped into her own little routine, not ballet anymore but no less beautiful. And she reached out with both hands and started spinning him around, laughing, and it turns out her laugh was contagious because soon Duke was laughing with her, doing his own little spins. And it was ridiculous and he was pretty sure he wasn't doing it right, but it felt right, anyhow.

Well, at least until he tripped and smashed into the radio.

The music cut off with an abrupt screech and Duke groaned, rolling over to lie on his back on the floor. Of course he had to have two left feet. Of course he had to ruin Cassandra's dancing.

He sat up and stared forlornly at the broken radio. "I'm so sorry, Cass. I told you I can't dance!"

But Cassandra just laughed, sitting cross-legged in front on Duke. "You dance well. Lots of energy."

"Maybe too much," he said sheepishly.

"Tim will fix," she assured him.

"Oh, great. You're not going to tell him I did that, are you?"

She winked at him. "Secret."

"Good, because I don't think I'd ever live it down."

He watched as she gathered all the broken bits and formed a pile next to the intact part of the radio. He noticed her hands were scarred, like almost all of the family's, and looked down at his own smooth brown palms.

It was only a matter of time before he became scarred like them. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"Hurt?" Cassandra was looking at Duke worriedly.

"What? Oh, no. My back's a bit sore, but that's it." He avoided Cass' gaze. "Anyway, you're a really good dancer, you know that? How'd you get so good?"

The pleased look on Cassandra's face made him feel fuzzy. "Talking."

"Talking?"

"You with mouth. Me with dance."

"Oh. So, it's as easy as talking for you, huh?"

"It is talking."

"So...what did I say, when I danced?"

She smiled but didn't say anything, instead standing up and walking over to a desk on the far side of the room. He sat there, unsure whether to follow her or not. Suddenly, music filled the room once again, a soft piano sonata weaving through the air.

"One more time?" Cass asked, holding out her hands.

He looked at the phone playing the music and decided that it was near impossible to break that, too.

"Sure," he said, taking her hands. "One more time."

* * *

Duke zipped up the duffel bag as Cassandra came back into the room.

"So, this is everything, I think."

"Thank you," she said warmly. "Big help."

"It's no problem. I kinda have a lot of free time, what with it being summer and everything."

Three days had passed since Cassandra had come to the Manor, and now it was time for her to leave again. Duke had offered to help her pack up while the others prepared a surprise cake for her, which he was pretty sure wasn't a surprise since Dick had accidentally yelled out 'let's bake a cake for Cassandra!' and then proceeded to get punched by Tim.

It was strange in a way- he felt like Cassandra learned more about him than he ever learned about her in these few days. It was like what Damian had told him, about the way she read body language. He still hadn't quite wrapped his head around it yet.

"Let's go," Cass called. "I want cake."

"It's supposed to be a surprise, by the way."

"I know," she smiled. "Brothers are bad at surprise."

They entered the main hall and were suddenly bombarded by confetti. A colourful streamer hung above them, reading 'GOODBYE CASSANDRA!' in bold letters. Bruce stood with the others, holding a only slightly misshapen chocolate cake.

"You may want to be careful, Master Cassandra," Alfred remarked dryly. "They made it themselves."

She cut into it and shoved a big chunk into her mouth. "Delicious," she said around a mouthful of chocolate.

Dick beamed. "See, with our collective strengths we can make something edible!"

"You mean, if we locked Bruce out of the kitchen," Tim deadpanned.

Bruce huffed but didn't deny the truth. He wrapped his arms around Cassandra instead.

"Goodbye," he said gruffly. "Try to visit more often."

"I will," she murmured into his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Cass!" Dick cheered, followed by a chorus from Tim and Damian. "Buy me some more souvenirs!"

"Of course. Jason will come next time?"

"We'll kill him if he doesn't," Damian said, without a shred of humour.

Cassandra turned to Duke and smiled, a smile that lit her eyes. "Goodbye, Duke."

"Goodbye, Cass." He felt that lingering sadness at saying farewell. "Come back soon. I'll look forward to more dancing lessons."

She laughed. "Me too."

Duke watched as she left through the door, making her way through the gardens accompanied by Alfred. There was a grace in the way she walked, the same grace Dick possessed too, like they were always swimming. Looking back, he saw the rest of the family eating the cake, not bothering with utensils and just using smudgy fingers. He felt a weird kind of contentness, if that was even a word, at looking at them.

He never imagined it could shatter so easily.

* * *

 **Soooo wow, this was a fast update by my standards! I know I don't write nearly enough of either Cass or Duke, so here's both of them together in one chapter! And yes, the next chapter will probably be more angst than fluff, whoops (I always slip back somehow).**

 **If you enjoyed reading this, please like/follow/review! Thank you to all those who have done just that on the previous stories, I really appreciate the feedback. I know I don't always take the time to reply to them, but they really do mean a lot to me and I'm so grateful for everyone who has done that!**

 **P.S: I was looking through my old stories and stumbled back onto One Call Away, which I said I might do an epilogue on and it seems people want that, but I haven't and it's been like two years (whoops). I actually fully intended on doing it, but stumbled into a MASSIVE case of writer's block, going through like 3 different versions! I really loved the first chapter, which is why I wanted the epilogue to be really good, but I guess it didn't work out. But I'm determined to start working on it again, so hopefully it will be out soon! Keep your eyes peeled!**


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